rthstewart (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rthstewart) wrote2012-02-09 09:42 am
rthstewart) wrote2012-02-09 09:42 am
Anons, Bombs, and Bangs
Anons and others, thank you for the kudos over on A03! CKate, if you keep reading Harold and Morgan, you will finally see Tumnus make an appearance. Also, he’s in The Horse and Her Girl. Tumnus and Peridan can’t stand each other. It’s a total bromance and probably romantic. And thank you ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blithers for the rec in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
het_reccers
So, let’s see. With the sort of merging of old fandom friends and new fandom friends, I’m not sure any more where I should bitch about my brother and sister in law and the never ending power struggle involving thebitch beach house that has now roiled over into a school fundraising activity involving pencils and erasers. So many lawyers in the family is so very much not a good thing (there are 5? 6? plus Grandma likes to sue without a lawyer because she doesn’t think she needs one) especially when coupled with a cultural proclivity toward rigidity and argument and a habit of carrying out warfare via email. The good thing about the last three years in this fandom was that I was able to quote back to a worried teacher who’d received an email bomb from my BIL about the pencils and erasers, “No really, it’s him, not you.” Or to quote my newly minted teen, “Haters are gonna hate, mom.”
Which brings me to pound cake and porn. The porn challenge is underway and so here is the signal boost and the note that asvialethe pointed out there is a real lack of Narnia porn thus far. I keep wanting to do something with Cor and Aravis but I’ve found myself really reluctant to write them after the wonderful work of edenfalling which isn’t porn or pound cake but still highly sensual and has become complete head canon for me. And hey, I wrote Caspian and Peter (sort of) for snacky! And that whole paragraph of the Revel in I love not man the less! And Maenad! And before that, other things. Really! Been there, done that, got the t-shirt and burned the negatives.
Which brings me next to the fact that yeah, the lovely anons notwithstanding, I continue to get hit, and in particular took one to the teeth recently. I have written a response which I have not posted, going back to my teen’s sage advice. Still, it rankles to stay silent when I'm instructed that fandom has changed since I entered it in the 1970s so I should just get with the program. Really, I can act my ancient age (unless it involves beach house selection with my in laws).
snitchnipped is proposing a big bang write in for Friday night so if you are interested, contact her but I think the timing is 9 PM ET. We’ll hang on Skype or in a chat room somewhere and motivate each other to sit down and write.
To that end, I somehow have managed to develop over 16,000 words of Harold and Morgan, Part 3, none of it postable. I keep thinking that I can write both the Big Bang and a Two Hearts Day piece for H&M at the same time and I'm not being real successful at it.
Harold had, for whatever reason, arrived in Archenland in all his Royal State and brought a lot of Narnians with him, which made Lucy laugh and Lune’s steward sigh though it wasn’t as if you needed to make up a room in the Castle for a Centauress or ten Crows. That part was really lovely. Morgan had missed Jalur, and Eirene was there, too, and members of the Palace Pack, and Mrs. Furner, Mr. Hoberry, and Jezebel had all sent gifts and notes and bows and there were Crows everywhere.
She wasn’t hiding from Harold, not exactly. Anvard was big and Morgan just got lost in the crush and kept to her place with the other advisors of the court. She had her own power in Archenland and she used it to be left alone and to set her own duties, schedules, and appointments. She was busy. She was working with Lune’s Exchequer, Lord Ker, on investment performance, training his assistant, Lady Sharra, and had meetings with guild representatives from the lower town to determine what equipment needed to be replaced next year and how to plan for its purchase now.
That strategy worked for two days.
Then Harold started looking for her. Jina started badgering her to talk to him and the Crows weren’t just following her around for fun. They were reporting to Harold on where she was not-hiding.
And sure, she was only accountable to Lune and Lord Ker, but Harold was a visiting Royal and he could be pretty imperial-like when he wanted to be. Everyone stood up when he entered the room and Anvard staff were all hopping to for his every whim and if that meant knowing where Banker Morgan was not-hiding, they’d inform the King Edmund, oh yes, your royal majesty, AD Morgan is the counting room now.
She kept tripping over him, like the dumb cat hanging around the hearth.
Harold was causing quite the stir too among the women in the court and Morgan couldn’t help but hear their whispers about why he wasn’t married yet and who his latest lover might be, and how handsome he was, and yes, he was handsome, and if those ladies didn’t stop talking about him, Morgan was going to move a few zeros on their next accounting or ask some of the Crows to misplace the Ladies’ gems. For a little while. Maybe even a long while.
It was good though, in the painful way that removing a splinter was good or lancing a boil. It all came more clearly into focus. Harold had been more important to her than she had been to him and that was her fault for investing in something that ate. Kings shouldn't be sleeping with their Bankers, especially when he was supposed to be the impartial Just King sovereign over her House and her House's competitors. Royalty needed consorts and heirs, and those women who were wrangling for his attention and talking about him and flirting with him could provide that and wanted to do so. She herself was automatically dismissed, not as a servant who might be used, but as something else, both higher and lower. If the matters had involved trade, accounting, and finance, she was important, considered and sought after. In matters of romantic maneouvering, Morgan was completely invisible.
blithers for the rec in het_reccersSo, let’s see. With the sort of merging of old fandom friends and new fandom friends, I’m not sure any more where I should bitch about my brother and sister in law and the never ending power struggle involving the
Which brings me to pound cake and porn. The porn challenge is underway and so here is the signal boost and the note that as
vialethe pointed out there is a real lack of Narnia porn thus far. I keep wanting to do something with Cor and Aravis but I’ve found myself really reluctant to write them after the wonderful work of edenfalling which isn’t porn or pound cake but still highly sensual and has become complete head canon for me. And hey, I wrote Caspian and Peter (sort of) for snacky! And that whole paragraph of the Revel in I love not man the less! And Maenad! And before that, other things. Really! Been there, done that, got the t-shirt and burned the negatives. Which brings me next to the fact that yeah, the lovely anons notwithstanding, I continue to get hit, and in particular took one to the teeth recently. I have written a response which I have not posted, going back to my teen’s sage advice. Still, it rankles to stay silent when I'm instructed that fandom has changed since I entered it in the 1970s so I should just get with the program. Really, I can act my ancient age (unless it involves beach house selection with my in laws).
snitchnipped is proposing a big bang write in for Friday night so if you are interested, contact her but I think the timing is 9 PM ET. We’ll hang on Skype or in a chat room somewhere and motivate each other to sit down and write.To that end, I somehow have managed to develop over 16,000 words of Harold and Morgan, Part 3, none of it postable. I keep thinking that I can write both the Big Bang and a Two Hearts Day piece for H&M at the same time and I'm not being real successful at it.
Harold had, for whatever reason, arrived in Archenland in all his Royal State and brought a lot of Narnians with him, which made Lucy laugh and Lune’s steward sigh though it wasn’t as if you needed to make up a room in the Castle for a Centauress or ten Crows. That part was really lovely. Morgan had missed Jalur, and Eirene was there, too, and members of the Palace Pack, and Mrs. Furner, Mr. Hoberry, and Jezebel had all sent gifts and notes and bows and there were Crows everywhere.
She wasn’t hiding from Harold, not exactly. Anvard was big and Morgan just got lost in the crush and kept to her place with the other advisors of the court. She had her own power in Archenland and she used it to be left alone and to set her own duties, schedules, and appointments. She was busy. She was working with Lune’s Exchequer, Lord Ker, on investment performance, training his assistant, Lady Sharra, and had meetings with guild representatives from the lower town to determine what equipment needed to be replaced next year and how to plan for its purchase now.
That strategy worked for two days.
Then Harold started looking for her. Jina started badgering her to talk to him and the Crows weren’t just following her around for fun. They were reporting to Harold on where she was not-hiding.
And sure, she was only accountable to Lune and Lord Ker, but Harold was a visiting Royal and he could be pretty imperial-like when he wanted to be. Everyone stood up when he entered the room and Anvard staff were all hopping to for his every whim and if that meant knowing where Banker Morgan was not-hiding, they’d inform the King Edmund, oh yes, your royal majesty, AD Morgan is the counting room now.
She kept tripping over him, like the dumb cat hanging around the hearth.
Harold was causing quite the stir too among the women in the court and Morgan couldn’t help but hear their whispers about why he wasn’t married yet and who his latest lover might be, and how handsome he was, and yes, he was handsome, and if those ladies didn’t stop talking about him, Morgan was going to move a few zeros on their next accounting or ask some of the Crows to misplace the Ladies’ gems. For a little while. Maybe even a long while.
It was good though, in the painful way that removing a splinter was good or lancing a boil. It all came more clearly into focus. Harold had been more important to her than she had been to him and that was her fault for investing in something that ate. Kings shouldn't be sleeping with their Bankers, especially when he was supposed to be the impartial Just King sovereign over her House and her House's competitors. Royalty needed consorts and heirs, and those women who were wrangling for his attention and talking about him and flirting with him could provide that and wanted to do so. She herself was automatically dismissed, not as a servant who might be used, but as something else, both higher and lower. If the matters had involved trade, accounting, and finance, she was important, considered and sought after. In matters of romantic maneouvering, Morgan was completely invisible.
no subject
I figured out a way to wrap up Susan's story in France, and then "all" that is left is D Day, so I'm pretty happy about that. Woot!
There was a final matter that Tebbitt knew had to be addressed. “Last, we need a security code, something in every message that tells me it’s from you, something only you would know and that cannot be duplicated. If I get any message that is supposed to be from you, if that security isn’t there, I’ll know you’ve been taken and that you are communicating under duress.”
There was only one thing that would work, that was unique to the person she really was, something that was under the codenames, the working names, the covers, and the forged identity cards. There was a code only Susan Pevensie would know. He only knew it because he had seen it.
“I think you know what we should use, Miss Pevensie.”
She shook her head, frowning. “Je ne comprends pas.”
“Don’t you remember this?” She watched, eyes wide, as Tebbitt slowly removed her phenomenally indiscreet letter from his folder. “Major al-Masri gave it to me. It’s the letter you wrote to Edmund in 1942. On its face, it appears to be a children’s story about a land called Narnia. But that isn’t right, is it, Queen Susan?”
no subject